


Decisions and Consequences

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-30
Updated: 2005-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-12 09:10:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7095904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 'Shells', while Wesley mourns for Fred, Giles comes to LA to ask him to do the impossible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decisions and Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

It always amazed him how easily the glasses broke against the wall. Perhaps it was because they were poorly made, or maybe it was because his rage was stronger than they were. Another glass found its way against the wall and he watched, almost amused, as it shattered and amber liquid ran down the wall. This was his new past time and it helped him pass the time.

“I do not understand,” came her cold voice, cutting through the silence of the room, “why do you break things?”

Wesley’s eyebrow rose in annoyance but he didn’t bother to look at her. His mind was screaming a string of insults, including murderer, but his mouth remained closed. He ran his fingers over the scotch bottle, which was sitting on his lap. It was such a daring game he played with her. He knew of her power, how she could easily kill him, yet, he didn’t care.

Illyria moved behind him and he could feel the coldness slide off her body and inhibit his. A shiver ran down his spine as he finally turned to look at her. He didn’t trust her when she was this close. She had a bad habit of mimicking her voice. He never wanted to hear Fred’s voice again.

“What do you want?” he finally asked, his voice hoarse from hours of drinking.

Illyria tilted her head and it was almost as if she was truly thinking of a request to bother him with. “I want to go back to the Wolf, Ram, and Hart,” she finally said as she continued to stare down at him. Wesley looked around and gripped the arms of the chair.

“You know where the door is,” he merely said before he pulled another glass out of the box sitting next to him. It was the things from Fred’s apartment. He’d taken on the task of packing them up. Yes, he could’ve kept paying rent on it but Angel had persuaded the landlord to not let Wesley keep paying. Now he had a week to get all of her stuff out. Well, whatever he didn’t break.

“They do not accept me there,” said Illyria suddenly. He jerked a little since his eyes were slowly closing. He was drunk enough to pass out and he welcomed it. 

“I wonder why,” he grumped before spinning the cap of the bottle off. He placed the opening to his lips and took a long drink. Maybe if he took her to the office, she’d hole up in the lab or bother Spike for a while. Then he’d be free to think in peace without her asking silly questions. “Fine. I’ll take you but you must leave me alone once we’re there.”

Her mouth opened but quickly shut. He was offering her a chance to leave the stuffy apartment that her shell once called home and didn‘t want to ruin that chance. Instead, she merely nodded her head and waited for him to stand before following him out.

~*~

They made a strange pair. Him looking like he’d died a hundred deaths and she with her violently blue hair, skin, and eyes. When they walked through the hallways of Wolfram & Hart, people stepped aside. It would seem everyone was used to seeing them together. Almost everyone. For Rupert Giles, the sight was sad , and frightening.

Giles was sitting in the lobby, near Angel’s office, when Illyria and Wesley walked in. He’d been there for an hour, trying to decide how to approach the problem at hand. He had his usual two sentence conversation with Angel, bickered with Spike, and was annoyed by Harmony. But they weren’t the reason he was there. He’d been sent to take care of Illyria. She was dangerous and couldn’t be allowed to continue living in this plane, or any plane for that matter.

Standing from the chair, Giles used his index finger to push his wired-rimmed glasses up before he started to approach them. “Wesley!” he said, with a cheerful tone.

Wesley stopped walking and turned to look at the other man. His eyes narrowed a little and it was almost like he’d forgotten who Giles was. But of course he knew who he was. He was the self-serving bastard that refused to help them after Fred had died.

“What are you doing here?” asked Wesley. Illyria, on the other hand, regarded the new human and stared at him.

“This one is full of fear,” she said to Wesley. “I frighten him.” She was proud of that fact.

Giles cleared his throat, pulled his glasses off, and cleaned them in one smooth motion. When his glasses were back on his face, he turned his attention back to Wesley, trying his best to ignore Illyria’s constant stare. “I thought we could have a chat about things,” he said to Wesley before glancing at Illyria. “In private.”

Wesley’s eyes left Giles’ face and moved over to Illyria. “Go find Spike or go to the lab. I’ll find you later,” he quietly said. Illyria nodded and looked to Giles once again before turning and going up the lobby’s flight of stairs. She figured Spike would allow her to beat him up again.

“Thank you,” said Giles as he watched Illyria leave. He turned his gaze back to Wesley and gave him a weak smile. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

Wesley just grunted a reply and started to walk toward his office. Giles followed suit and when they got there, he admired the size of the office and the view. Wesley asked him to sit down before taking a seat behind his desk. “Why are you here?”

Giles leaned back his chair and pondered for a moment. This Wesley was different from the one he’d known in Sunnydale. He was more harsh now. Giles could understand why; the poor man had just the love of his life and now had to live with the pain of seeing a demon walk around looking like her. 

“I’m here on business,” he finally said. “It’s about Illyria.”

Wesley scoffed at him and looked down at his desk. “It would seem the only time you want anything to do with us is if you want something, or you want to take something away,” he muttered without looking up. “Illyria is not for sale and the Council will not have her.”

Confusion riddled Giles’ face as Wesley spoke. He never remembered a time when he’d come to them to take something away. He wanted to ask why he’d said that but decided it wasn’t the best course of action. “This isn’t Council business. I’m no longer part of the Council…”

“But Andrew said…”

“Andrew and I have parted ways,” explained Giles as he kept his eyes on Wesley. He really wanted the other man to look up at him. “The Council, your father in particular, was going back to their old ways. The lying, cheating, and torturing side. I can’t be part of that. No, it wasn’t the Council who sent me.”

Wesley finally looked up at him and stared for a long moment, his mouth slightly agape in thought. “Then who sent you?” he finally asked.

“An old wizard. He felt Illyria rise and he can feel her becoming more powerful with each passing day,” said Giles as Wesley gave him a look of disbelief. Giles decided to ignore it. “If it’s allowed to manifest, then it will destroy Los Angeles and most of California. It will cause earthquakes and thousands will die.”

“How reliable is this wizard?” asked Wesley, not believing anything Giles had to say. Even though Ilyria bothered him, Wesley didn’t want to get rid of her, or for her to die. “How do you know he’s not telling you a load of rubbish because he has something up his sleeve and he won’t be able to do it with Illyria here?”

Giles let out a soft sigh. He figured this would be the sort of reception he’d get from Wesley. Spike had told him about how Wesley had taken it upon himself to take care of Illyria and most of them figured it was because she looked like Fred. 

“Look, Wesley, there’s a prophecy and Illyria is in it. If she’s not destroyed there will be consequences that none of us will be able to stop,” said Giles as he leaned forward. “I know, Wesley. I understand what it’s like to lose someone you care so deeply for but protecting that monster isn’t the way to heal.”

“I need a drink,” said Wesley as if he hadn’t heard a word Giles had said. He quickly stood from his chair and stumbled a bit before grabbing an unopened bottle of scotch, which was holding up a dictionary of demonology, from the bookshelf and made his way back to his desk. Giles closely watched him as he poured the remainder of coffee out of his mug and replaced it with the alcohol.

“Is this what you’ve been doing with yourself since Fred died?” asked Giles as he kept his eyes on the other man.

Wesley took a long drink and placed the mug down on his desk with a deafening thud. “Don’t say her name,” he hissed as he gave Giles a dangerous look. “You aren’t allowed that right. You could’ve helped save her but you chose not to.”

“Is that part of the problem, Wesley? Are you mad at me because I made a mistake and didn’t send Willow here to help bring Fred back? “ Giles asked.

“Piss off, Rupert,” spat Wesley before he picked the mug up again. He took another drink, this one longer. The liquid burned his throat and caused him to have a violent coughing fit. Giles automatically stood and quickly went behind the desk to help in any way he could.

Giles picked up the mug of scotch and set it aside. He stood there until Wesley was able to control his coughs. “Why are you doing this to yourself? Why must you torture yourself and those around you?” he asked before handing Wesley one of his clean handkerchiefs. 

Wesley reluctantly took it from his hand and wiped his mouth off. He took a few ragged breaths before saying, “Because I have nothing left and now you want to take the only thing that still connects me with her. I refuse to allow you to kill Illyria. I’ll find a way to stop her before she implodes on herself.”

“Right,” said Giles, stepping away from him. There was never any use in fighting with a man who was grieving the lost of a women he deeply loved. “I’ll be in town for a while. I have a few other things I need to do while I’m here. I’m staying at the old hotel downtown, the Los Angeles Hotel. My room number is 325. If you want to talk…”

He didn’t think he needed to end the sentence. He’d put himself out there as someone for Wesley to come to if he needed it. Giles was sure Wesley wasn’t getting much support from Angel and the rest of them since they were mourning Fred also. 

“Goodbye, Rupert.” Wesley finally said without looking at the other man. He had no plans to call him or to even acknowledge he was in town. He didn’t need another person telling him he drank too much or how he needed to stop chasing Fred’s ghost. Wesley felt he was perfectly fine this way and he wasn’t going to stop for anyone.

“Yes, well, goodbye then,” Giles softly said before he made his way to the office door. He stopped for a moment, wanting to say something else but chose not to. He couldn’t force Wesley to stop what he was doing. No one could except for Wesley himself.

~*~

The books were stacked higher than they’d ever been on his desk, but he was on a mission. He wanted to prove Giles was wrong and that his little wizard friend had lied to him. Wesley spent a good majority of a night, and day, cross referencing everything he knew about Illyria. When he’d done it before, it was in rush because they needed the information quickly in order to save Fred. And when it didn’t work, he simply stopped researching and started drinking.

It was mid-morning when he finally found what he was looking for, and his heart sank. Giles had been right and there was a prophecy about Illyria. Even though it didn’t directly mention It by name, Wesley knew it was about Illyria. The prophecy told of an ancient God who would rise in Los Angeles for a short time before dying. It’s death would bring mass destruction and cause thousands of deaths. Illyria was a walking time bomb.

Armed with the new information, Wesley didn’t know what to do. If he went to Angel, the vampire would order Illyria’s death without thinking twice and part of Wesley didn’t want to see her dead. Yet, he felt he had no one to turn to. No one could possibly understand how he felt. Instead he continued his research, trying to find a way of saving the world, and Illyria, at the same time. But he couldn’t and he finally knew what he had to do.

The drive to the hotel didn’t take long, much to Wesley’s dismay. This was it. He was going to Giles to give him permission to kill Illyria and he didn’t know how he was going to handle it. And when he came upon Giles’ room, he hesitated for a second before softly knocking on it.

“Wesley,” said Giles when he opened the door. “I wasn’t expecting you. Please, come in.”

Wesley looked at Giles for a moment before stepping past him and inside. His eyes scanned the room as they took in the messy desk, which was filled with books and papers, and the messy bed, which had towels and clothes lying on it. He’d always pictured Giles to be neater.

“I’m here about Illyria,” he said when he heard Giles close, and lock, the door behind him. He hoped Giles wouldn’t gloat once his finished his statement. “You were right. We do have to kill her. I found the prophecy.”

Giles nodded his head and sat down in one of the room’s armchairs. He looked Wesley over for a minute and could tell the other man hadn’t slept since he’d left his office the day before. Giles was sure he’d spent the entire time researching and trying to prove what he’d told him, wrong.

“I’m sorry. I know what Illyria means to you,” he solemnly said. He folded his hands on his lap and let out a long sigh. “But it’s for the best. You understand that, right?”

Wesley lazily shrugged his shoulder and sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t think I understand anything now. This past month… the things that have happened… sometimes I wish it were just a dream. Having Illyria there, well, it’s sort of like solace. I know she’s not Fred but she has her memories and it makes it a little better knowing that… knowing that part of Illyria will always be Fred.”

Giles carefully listened to ever word that left Wesley’s mouth. He wondered if he was the first person Wesley had spoken to about this. He could see the emptiness and hurt in his eyes and it broke his heart. “Sometimes when we lose someone we love, we tend to hold on to the things that remind us of them. I can understand why you’d want to hang on to Illyria.” 

“If I lose her, then I’ll lose Fred too… completely lose her,” said Wesley in a shaky voice. He placed his hands over his eyes as a sob escaped his throat. “I can’t lose her, Rupert. I can never lose her.”

It wasn’t long until the small room was filled with Wesley’s desperate sobs. Giles quickly stood from his chair and sat next to the other man. He placed a hand on his shoulder and tightly squeezed. “I know it hurts, Wesley, believe me, I do. But it’s for the best. It’s time for you to start healing and you have to move on. If you don’t, you’ll kill yourself. And I know they’re times when you wish for death but it’s not what Fred would want, and neither do you.”

“I don’t even know what I want. I can’t even think straight,” said Wesley into his hands. 

Giles’ lips turned up in a small smile. “What you need is sleep. Here,” he said, standing. He cleared off the bed by pushing the clothes and towels to the floor. “You can sleep here. I don’t mind. Besides, I don’t think you’re in any shape to drive home. And I certainly don’t trust the transit system in this city.” Maybe Wesley and him weren’t that close but Giles knew he needed to be a friend to him and to make sure he was all right.

Wesley mutely nodded, his face still wet from his recent tears. He pulled off his shoes and crawled up on the bed. Laying his head on the pillow, he thought about how soft and inviting the bed was. It wouldn’t take long for him to fall asleep. “About Illyria,” he muttered with his eyes closing.

“We’ll deal with that once you’ve rested,” said Giles as he watched Wesley get comfortable on the bed. He was glad Wesley had finally came to his senses and was doing the right thing, even though it hurt him.

The other man nodded his head and allowed his eyes to close. “Will you stay?” he asked in a soft voice.

“I’ll be here for as long as you need me,” answered Giles. Wesley nodded and soon his breath deepened with sleep. And as Giles watched him sleep, he came to the realization that he had to stay for as long as Wesley needed him.


End file.
